Life as Ron Weasley
by ReaderChris
Summary: Voldemort was defeated, but to which price? In an desperate attempt to save lost lives, decided Ron to do it at least once right and scarified himself for his brother in all but blood. Time travel!, Harry-as-Ron!, AU!
1. Prologue: The last chance

**Life as Ronald Weasley**

* * *

Summary: Voldemort was defeated, but to which price? In an desperate attempt to save the lost lives, decided Ron to do it at least once right and scarified himself for his brother in all but blood.

Warnings: OOC!Ron&Harry! Poor grammar! No regular update! AU!

Pairings: Some planned but undecided, open for suggestions.

* * *

_Chapter 1: Prologue: The last chance; Just once, far too late, he wanted do to the right thing . . .  
_

* * *

"No" Harry refused. "Not you too"

Ron remained unimpressed, staring hard at the broken eyes of his best friend, he knew it was their last chance.

"It's the only way Harry," He spoke calm, so unbelievable calm, that Ron himself questioned from where he had the strength. "We tried looking for a different way, didn't we? Do you really think that I didn't think it trough?" There was some hidden joke, but the sober, _sorrowful_, air around them swallowed all happy thoughts.

Harry deviated his eyes from him, sagging against the dirty wall behind him, face resigned. Ron averted his eyes, clenching his hands to fists.

Voldemort was defeated, but to which price?

Hogwarts, the great castle, was in ruins, Hogsmeda destroyed and Diagon Alley became a place for criminals.

The fight -_war,_ he reminded himself- was long, hard and with many deaths on both sides. There was even a time where he just simply believed that they all would die together.

Then came the relieving messages. Voldemort was dead, _Harry won._

The relief held not on for long. Ron foolishly believed that once the Dark Lord was dead that the fights would stop. It was pure naivety.

They became even more brutal.

Then came the next nightmare. The muggles found out about the magical word. Ron never really thought about them, they were always somehow at the back of his mind. He wasn't prejudiced against them, _Merlin, no_, but he realized that he believed himself more superior to them. What kind of threat could muggles give them, the magical word? A simple oblivate spell and it would have been taken care off.

It wasn't that simple. He terribly underestimated the sheer number of them, he underestimated the efficiency of _technology._

War broke out again. It wasn't like that they didn't tried to work together, but the suspicion, the prejudice, the hate and fear was on both sides to much. It wasn't an all out war, some countries ignored them, didn't want to do anything with the crazy robe wearing people. Others, like many so called occults began to seek them out, named them -the wizards and witches,- as some higher beings that would bring Armageddon to them.

They weren't a problem, annoying yes, but no problem that they couldn't face. The problem were the people and groups that began to fight and kill off the magical beings. They were organized hunts, like for some kind of animal. Even the governments and military joined in.

The magical word had no real chance, half destroyed from their own war, it was only a question of time before the muggles would become the ultimate winners. Especially after they found out about the more hurtful spells of the magical words. Not only were spells criticized that were dark and hurtful, but even with spells, which were normal to Ron, like the obliviate spell. For him it was normal, for the muggles not. How often were they feed lies? How often were they brainwashed? How many deaths were because of the magicians and not terrorist?

Ron suppressed a sigh. He wanted to scream, to wake up and realize that it all was just a terrible, terrible nightmare, to enclose his sister, his brothers and his parents in a tight hug and never let go.

However, he knew that this could only happen in a dream. He hadn't dreamed since his sister died.

He and Harry were the only ones remaining of the Order of the Phoenix.

His family, Remus, Sirius, Tonks, Shacklebolt, Neville, Hermione, even those who weren't part of the Order like Luna, Susan, Dean and many more were all dead. Only he and Harry remained, the _golden trio_ broke. Hermione, beautiful, smart Hermione. They did break up, the strain of war being to much for their shaky relationship, but Ron never stopped loving the fierce women. She was murdered by a muggle, of all things with a shotgun.

It was so surreal, somehow after all the time thought he that the three of them were somewhat invincible, would never die.

Hermione died, shot by an crazy muggle as she gave a speech about how it was possible to live together in peace. She never had the chance to finish her speech, on which she worked for weeks without a break.

Neville died protecting some orphaned children, his death was quick and painless, hit by an avada kedavra curse. He died a hero, like his parents.

Shacklebolt, who was named Minister of Magic after Voldemort's fall, was murdered ,by whom, they don't now. At that time there were many suspects who were unsatisfied with the system, Shacklebolt was just one of many persons at whom the mass let out their frustration, _their hate_.

Many more died, were killed, murdered, tortured, in an endless circle of violence and hate. Never understanding each other, never trying to see outside their own selfish needs and wants. Ron was exactly the same.

He was startled out of his thoughts when Harry spoke up.

"There must be a different way" He whispered, more to himself than to Ron."We must have overlooked something"

There was a desperate pleading tone in Harry's voice that just screamed at Ron to agree with Harry. To say, that it was alright, that yes, there was a different way, but there wasn't. They just both didn't want to accept it.

"Why you Ron?" Harry asked with a tired face, looking up from his sagged position against the wall. He didn't look anything like the glorious Hero from the many stories his mother told them when they were young and _alive_.

"Why me?" the redhead repeated. "Why you?" He asked and gave Harry no time to retaliate.

"I was never smart, never strong, never understood anything, never thought, never understood the situation, always so tactless." He listed with a rueful smile. "Always so dumb, so stupid, so utterly stupid. Jealous of the person who has the most shittiest fate of the world-"

"Ron-" Harry tried to interrupt, but the Weasley didn't let him.

"No! It's the truth. It's always you, always you who suffers, always you who takes the blame, the hate." He choked on his words. "I-I always admired you Harry, you know? I always wanted to be so brave like you, to be popular, to have much money. Before I noticed changed the admiration to a bloody dark jealousy." He turned his eyes away from his friend, feeling ashamed. "I was... _so jealous,_ so captivated in that stupid jealousy. "He stared at his friend, he will not run away from this. "I didn't notice how much I hurt you, how much I hurt the others, heck I was a unreliable swine." He took a deep breath. "But you, _you forgave me._ You of all the people, you who had the bloody damn right to be mad at me, to hate me, to curse me... forgave me. You forgave me, even when I myself never forgive myself."

He looked his eyes with astonished green ones.

"So just this once, this once, let me be the one who does the right thing, just once, even if it's to late._ Let me do this._"

Harry stared at him, the astonished expression fading to a look that bore into his soul. Seeing all his faults, all his regrets, all the guilt. His friend slide down the wall as he closed his eyes, a sigh escaping him. Ron stood there anxious, ready to launch in a new tirade that would had rivaled Hermiones, but he didn't had to.

"Fine" Harry spoke softly, leaning his head against the wall, eyes closed. Ron opened his mouth and closed it, stunned, hearth beating erratic.

"Harry?" He asked, cursing in his mind at his weak voice. His friend ignored him.

"Tomorrow"

Ron gazed at him, he could practically feel the guilt radiating from Harry, but he didn't care. Harry wouldn't die, wouldn't jut cease to exist. With Harry they had a chance.

"We begin tomorrow" Harry repeated to himself, voice painfully void of emotions.

[1]

**/The next day/**

There was a tense silence

"It's not fair, it's just not fair" Harry whispered, breaking the overwhelming silence, not looking up from the two ritual circles on the ground.

"The world never is" Ron stated, looking at the crumpled papers in his hands. There were black letters, forming to complex words and sentences in the straight handwriting of Hermione.

"You will die, never meeting your family, your friends, Hermione!"

Ron smiled sadly "Yes, I will not, but you and if it's you, then I know that you will protect them with everything you have" He spoke softly, glancing back at the paper, noticing, this time, the messy handwriting of Luna, adding thoughts or crossing out some things Hermione wrote. "Think about it, you could-No_, you will_ do the right thing, you will have a family-"

He was interrupted by an angry growl.

"Your family!" Harry bit out.

"Your family," He added softer. "I would be taking your family. You know that there is a risk that the soul will itself manifest in the body of...the sacrifice" Harry explained, whispering the last words. The black-haired man flinched as Ron laughed.

"That's the reason your worried?" Ron looked at the confused and hurt expression of his friend. "You are family. You are a honorary Weasley. Really, since the first time that my mom knitted you a sweater, since the time you saved me and my family, again and again. Since the first time you shared your sweets with me, you were always a Weasley. Nothing changed that and nothing will change that"

He looked at his speechless friend.

"Think about it, you yourself said that there is a possibility that the soul would land in the body of the sacrifice." He said, trying to use logic for once outside of chess. "Now, imagine. Me being in your body,_ me_ living the life_ as Harry Potter_. I could never handle it, the Dursleys, the fame, the people and we both know that I'm just too bloody stupid to hide a secret. I could never handle such a thing" Ron knows that he was guilt tripping Harry, but if it was the only way, then he would. It wasn't like he lied, it was the truth, he couldn't deal with the Durleys without blowing up, couldn't deal with the fame without growing arrogant.

"You will die" Harry stated.

"I know"

"You will never see your family again"

"...I know"

"I..I..."

"I know" Ron said assuring and he knew, he did, even if Harry couldn't from the words, he understood.

They shared a moment of silence and just stared at each other.

Ron will not just die, he will literally cease to exist. The ritual transforms the voluntary victim to the purest form of magic, even the soul will not be spared. The read haired man, balled his hands to fist. He _was scared_. He didn't want to die, didn't want to swirl around as nothing. He will never be able to see his family, could never follow them to the death.

Of course, it could have been that Hermione and Luna, brilliant in their own ways, made an error and it just blows them up.

He bit his lip and stepped in to the avada-green circle. Ignoring the desperate look that Harry was sending him. He will do it.

"Ron!" Harry spoke up, as he walked just like Ron to the circle, but a different one, his was a light blue.

"You don't need to do-" He began but Ron interrupted him angrily.

"Yes! I must. So shut the hell up Harry!" He said, his agitation rising. "I was never as ready as now" He spoke, calming himself down.

Harry stared at him, visibly fighting back the urge to move out of the ritual. Ron glanced sadly at him.

"That will be a goodbye" He said, voice somehow empty.

"Yes, there will be no next time" Harry agreed, eyes cast to the ground.

Why did this things always happens to Harry? Thought Ron. He never found an answer. Was it fate? Coincidence? Or lost Harry's guardian angel in a card play?

"Good luck" Ron called to Harry. "And look after Ginny, will you? And after Fred, George and Percy, and, and..." Ron trailed off, comprehending the situation, like always, to late. He didn't want to die, he wanted to see his family. He wanted to make his family proud. He really wanted to see them, just one last time.

Ron knew that he just needed to utter the words that he didn't want it to do, and Harry will stop. That will stop. But no, he was a Gryffindor, a Weasley for Merlin's sake. They didn't run away. He took a deep breath.

"That's our last chance, do it right Harry, will you? And let me prove to you that I'm not useless"

He was surprised when he heard a bitter laugh.

"You're aren't useless, you're one of the bravest and stupidest persons I know. What kind of Idiot would cross the way with a Troll?" He added with a smile and Ron calmed down.

"Well, I see one across from me" Ron said, remembering back, it was his fault to begin with, he was the one who insulted Hermione.

"Let us begin"

Harry looked at him and Ron gulped down hard.

"Let's do it, before if shit in my pants"

. . .

[1]

With a deep breath shot Harry's eyes open.

He blinked.

His eyes widened as he noticed the blurry image of Molly Weasley's face.

Harry did the only think he could.

_**He wailed. **_

._  
_

* * *

-Chapter End-

* * *

Thoughts? Ideas? Critic? Reviews? Wishes? Opinions?


	2. What now?

**Life as Ronald Weasley**

* * *

Summary: Voldemort was defeated, but to which price? In an desperate attempt to save the lost lives, decided Ron to do it at least once right and scarified himself for his brother in all but blood.

Warnings: OOC!Ron&Harry! Poor grammar! No regular update! AU!

Pairings: Some planned but undecided, open for suggestions.

* * *

Chapter two: What now?

* * *

The first months were a confusing mess, there were only short moment where he was really conscious and it annoyed him. It was like _torture_, unable to grasp his thoughts, not knowing where he was or who held him.

Only when the first longer periods of awareness came, could he gather his thoughts.

It worked, the freaky ritual worked and he was back in the past, in the past living as _Ron Weasley. _Not only did he completely erased the existence of his friend, he too killed the younger version, the young soul that should have been living the life of Ron Weasley.

He was actually not sure what exactly happened but the young soul of his friend was death. Of that he was sure. He wished that he would have been born in his original body, as Harry Potter, but he had no time for grieving, he needed a plan.

The first problem was his age, he was young, _too young,_ to change things at the moment.

It was frustrating, knowing that his_ other self _lived now with the Dursleys, that Sirius rotted in Azkaban, that Voldemort was still alive, his Death Eather still roamed free around a_nd he could do nothing. _

So stupid, so utterly stupid of him, like always rushed he just in the situation without thinking of the consequences, without a _solid_ plan.

He cursed in his head, he needed a plan, a plan to change fate.

[ 2 ]

Harry refrained from kicking Bill in the face as said boy picked him up. He had nothing against the oldest Weasley sibling, but the way he held him was rather clumsy.

"Don't tire mum and dad to much, will you?" The eleven year old spoke to his youngest brother.. "And look after your new baby sister will you? Because now you're not the youngest anymore" He spoke with a smile.

The oldest Weasley was saying his goodbyes to his family. He was now eleven and ready to leave for Hogwarts and Harry felt a pang of longing in his chest on that. Hogwarts was his beloved home and it hurt seeing Bill go and him being left behind.

The former Potter was surprised when he noticed that it weren't the four year old twins, who named Bill their favorite sibling, but five year old Percy, who was the saddest about the leave of his older brother.

The Percy Harry knew was usually very composed, so when he saw the big tears leaving the young face, tucked it at Harry's conscious, he would do everything possible to prevent the split of the family, it strengthened his resolve to protect them.

With a small smile watched he the big family, the guilt was still there,_ Ron wasn't forgotten,_ and Harry didn't believe that it will ever go away, but he will not get it in the way of his relationship with the Weasleys, that's something he promised his brother in all but blood.

[ 2 ]

Harry listened patiently to the blabber of his younger sister and the blonde haired girl.

Surprisingly, Luna was, as a three year old, a very active and happy child. Her short dirty blonde hair framed her face and made her cheeks puff up. Her skin was pale, almost unhealthy. Even as a child, her eyes seemed to bulge out of her head as she observed her surroundings with the inquisitiveness only a kid could show, but there was something in the eyes of the young child that was missing, Harry was just not sure what exactly.

On the other hand, Ginny had bright orange-red hair, laying in a wild mess at the top of her head. Her eyes were brown and a shade or two lighter than that of her future counterpart.

Harry felt a painful tug in his hearth.

Ginny, the women he once loved. This Ginny wasn't _his Ginny_, the Ginny he knew, and she would never be the one he knew. He was now her brother and the only thought he can allow himself is brotherly affection. Nothing more, nothing less.

The man in a child's body shook his head, the past was the past. He should never forget to move forwards.

After four years, Harry was still unable to change anything, but he decided to not sulk unnecessary, it will only waste time. No, he thought about his life, _how_ he should live it.

Being in the background and nudging people in the right direction? Or taking a more active part? He was not sure, should he act like normal, or maybe make use of his knowledge and come over as some kind of genius?

What Harry decided from the beginning was that he will be a person, who others can lean on, rely, _trust_.

Should he try to become popular, or operate from the shadows? Then there was the other Harry. How should he act, maybe even _use_ him for his gain?

He shook his head, no, no, _no_. He didn't want to become like Dumbledore, he didn't need to make it too complicated and lose sight of his goal. The destruction of Voldemort and his Death Eaters, without the notice of the muggles.

"Lon?" Ginny asked, bringing him out of his thoughts and Harry chuckled, the sound sounding strange from the mouth of a four year old. Little Ginny still had problems pronouncing words right.

"_R_on, with a _R." _He answered, stressing the letter.

"Won-Won" A voice spoke and Harry had nearly a hearth attack as he turned to Luna.

"No,_ just no_. "He spoke, voice grave."Then better Lon"

[ 2 ]

Harry lifted a hand to his face as he felt something poke his face. Sleepily, he blinked at nothing particular. Feeling something hairy at the side of his head, turned he around.

Abruptly, he jerked back.

A freaky _spider_ was in his bed. He jumped out of the bed and landed with a muffled shout at the floor. Still not quiet awake, he stared at the big spider, that looked content on his bed.

The redhead turned his head as he heard giggling.

"Is ickle Ronniekins scared of a itsy bitsy spider?" Fred, he was sure it was Fred, taunted. George stood besides him, waggling the wand of their mother in his hand. Before Harry could do as much as glare, ran the two pranksters away, leaving their younger brother with a bump on his head and a spider on his bed.

Great, and this time he didn't even broke their toy broomstick like Ron.

[ 2 ]

Harry couldn't suppress the grind that threatened to split his face. It wasn't very mature of him, but oh well.

Just this once.

He grinned as Molly scolded the two boys for playing with her wand, and that it only served them right that they _accidentally _charmed themselves. Both boys sported slytherin-green hair and had their names written with bold letters on their forehead.

Sure, not very imaginative, but his options were limited and he knew how the twins hated it when people could tell them apart on the first glance.

Hopefully, that will be enough to discourage them from further pranks on him, but as he saw the twin glares directed at him, he knew that it will only encourage them more. Well, it was time to get his old attitude, from before the war, back. Pranks after the death of the Weasley twins just weren't the same.

[ 2 ]

The red-haired boy winced as the women before him began a new scolding rant. He just went to a walk and forgot to time. It wasn't even like that he walked far away, his body grew too fast exhausted for that.

Harry suppressed a sigh, he loved the Weasleys, he really did, but sometimes it just become_s to much _and Harry felt overwhelmed by the big and rowdy family. It wasn't their fault, but Harry fells captivated and suffocated in the atmosphere of the family.

He needed a break.

Harry lifted his head and stared at the still ranting Molly. He always thought that there was a difference to how she threatened him as opposites to her children, even as she told him that he was part of the family. Now he saw it clearly.

That look that she now gave him, _gave Ron, _was never the same to the one she gave Harry Potter. Harry didn't doubt that Molly loved him, but not like her child, no, not like that. More like a women who took pity in a pathetic orphan. It was nice in the past when he hugged him, worried for him but now that he had the _real_ loving look of a mother directed at him, he could tell the difference.

It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

[ 2]

Harry narrowed his eyes from where he sat on the couch. A happy Percy, very happy Percy, held a very familiar _rat_ in his arms. The little dirty thing was half death. How he wished to go over there and strangle the traitor to death, but no, he needed him. He cursed in his head as Percy showed the thing to his mother, who promptly shrieked.

"Percival! What is that thing!" She demanded, lifting her hands to her hip and looking down at her son.

The young Percy held the rat protectively against his chest and Harry grimaced in disgust. If he just knew _who exactly_ he protected.

"That's no thing, mom, it's a rat" He said calmly and with a patronizing tone, which Molly didn't notice or chose to ignore.

She stared sternly at him. "I see that. What I mean is why do you have it?"

The boy looked nervously down and shuffled unsure on his feet.

"I found him in the garden" He mumbled out. "He looked hungry and hurt!" He added fast when he noticed the disapproving frown on his mothers face. "I just wanted to help" He explained further looking up with hopeful eye to his mother.

Molly's face softened visibly and she sighed gently. After all this years, one would think you would get immune to the big, teary puppy eyes but they still get her every time.

"I understand and you can look after it for the time." She said and couldn't suppress the smile as Percy grinned brightly at her. "But we will speak with the rest of the family later on, especially your father" She added sterner.

Percy nodded enthusiastically. "Thank you!" He yelled as he ran to his room, the rat secure in his hand.

"But don't let it anywhere near Ginny!" She called after him in warning and went back to her work with a shake of her head. Not noticing the evil aura her youngest son was surrounded by.

[ 2 ]

The former boy who lived fingered the brown wand in his hand. It was Molly's -his mother's- wand. It was in the middle of the night and as the read haired women checked earlier after her son and found him sleeping peacefully in his bed. In the course of it, she didn't notice how her 'sleeping' son stole her wand.

Now Harry glared, from where he sat on the ground of his room, at the sleeping rat. Molly was afraid that the little thing would wake in the night and crawl in his or Ginny's bed so she transfigured a small cage for it. Which suited Harry perfectly.

He already wrote a letter, addressed to a certain women with the name Amelia Bones, now he just needed to send it to her. He wanted to transfiguring his cup to a owl and send it like that to the ministry, but his magic didn't want like he wanted.

It was somewhat stranger, he expected that he wouldn't be able to use his magic like before, he was still only five but that it _fought_ against him? It was worrying, but maybe he was just too young for such complicated magic.

He shook his head, he needed to do it. He would have conjured some, but he was better at transfiguration. He raised his wand arm and concentrated on the cup, trying it again. Ignoring the niggling feeling at the back of his head, it wasn't important.

For the Harry who was stuck at the Dursleys, for Sirius who was stuck in Azkaban, for justice. The redhead flicked his wand with routine and stared expectantly as the cup slowly began to change form.

Drained, let he himself fall on his back, a exhausted 'huff' left his mouth. The young body wasn't used to such a drain of magic. He took a deep breath and sat up. He could relax later, carefully took the the letter and band it to the cage, which he in turn, band around the small barn owl's leg.

Carefully walking to the open window, he released the transfigured animal and watched with concerned eyes as it flew away. Dread setting in his stomach as a stray thought hit him, he had forgotten to stun the traitor for good. Hopefully he will not wake through the flight.

[2]

* * *

Author's Note:

A bit late, and I'm not quiet satisfied with the chapter, but I have a rather stressful time and an unexpected writer block. I'm really sorry for the delay.

Critic, wishes, opinions, reviews are always welcomed with open arms.


End file.
